Even if no one had told me that it's the first day of summer, I think I still might have guessed. There's something in the air. A dusty breeze of fresh hay and rain clouds- a puff of honeysuckle and the chirp of new born birds.
There is a type of quiet that lays on the land. It is green and gorged- bursting with secret gardens and tangled forest- impregnated with fragrant bouquets and skies as blue as cornflowers.
Summer seems to be satisfied- proud to be the reigning season. As though she knows her control is short-lived. That autumn will eventually swallow her up completely and she will rest in a dormant grave.
But for now there is celebration and triumph- giddiness and giggles- freedom and frolic- as the landscape unfolds into a masterpiece.
The pond is thick with fat grasses and lean cattails- popping with hungry fish and sparking with dragonflies. The garden spot spits out plump plants that hang with blooms. The night sky opens up like a black velvet hole, scattered with glitter. And fireflies beat like tiny glowing hearts in the nearby fields.
I touch the clover with bare feet- dig my toes into dew covered grass- lift my eyes to the treetops- and breathe deeply all that is Summer.
Clouds threaten rain today- roll like gray cotton- and hover like indigo tents stuffed with raindrops. Lightning stabs the sky and I run for cover.
|"Copyright by Martin Liebermann / zeitspuren" http://www.flickr.com/photos/liebermann/3719583983/|
This is a good day- this first day of Summer. It is sweet and real and soft with life.
And I celebrate all that it brings me.